


In the Living Room

by GraciousRandomness



Series: Deserving Prompts [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers Family, Domestic Avengers, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Plot Twists
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 16:20:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21274097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GraciousRandomness/pseuds/GraciousRandomness
Summary: Mysterious circumstances lead to an armed, high-stakes confrontation between two best friends.





	In the Living Room

**Author's Note:**

> :D felt like writing so my crackhead brain made this at midnight after getting high on Snickers
> 
> and it turned out okay so I guess I'm posting it

Prompt 1: Inspired by mischiefgoddesscomplex

  
  
  


Clint panted heavily as he crashed behind the sofa for cover, squeezing his gun between his two hands. He strained his ears, turning up the dial on the contraption tucked around his ears to its highest sensitivity possible. He could hear someone stalking the halls of the Tower, going slow and careful, finger pressed carefully but firmly against their gun -- against their  _ trigger. _

  
  


He closed his eyes as they came closer and closer, their feet barely clicking on the hardwood of the newly decorated living room, the same place they had been laughing just 30 minutes ago. He longed for his newly modified bow, but it was stuck in Stark’s lab for upgrades- he couldn’t get to it. Not that it mattered now.

  
  


Clint took a few steadying breaths, taking solace in the constant, steady rise and fall of his chest. It was now or never- he had to surprise them or he would never stand a chance.

  
  


He lunged up from behind the couch, whirling his firearm around, aiming the barrel straight at the mystery attacker’s heart.

  
  


“Natasha,” he growled.

  
  


A disinterested Natasha, gun already pointed at Clint in a similar fashion, flashed a cocky grin. “Barton. I finally caught you. You’re a tricky one, I’ll give you that.”

  
  


“Where are the others?”

  
  


“Oh, I already took care of Thor and Steve. Sam and Bucky-” Natasha giggled sadistically- “They’re down. It’s just us now, except for Tony and Bruce- couldn’t risk bringing out the Big Guy, and I’ll get Tony when he comes back from whatever useless meeting he’s at.” Natasha said, smiling creepily towards Clint, who was slowly backing up, away from the couch. “So that just leaves you.”

  
  


“You could just let me go,” he tried to reason. “A truce? This could all end right here,” he said, eyes scanning his surroundings, looking for any way out.

  
  


Nat’s face twisted into a sneer, a delicate finger starting to strain against the trigger. “If you’re not with me, then you’re against me. You had your chance to join me at the beginning of this, but you passed it up. You’re just in my way now.”

  
  


“You don’t want to do this,” he tried. “I thought we were a team!” he said, voice wavering as he gripped his rifle harder.

  
  


“The Avengers?” Nat laughed, “That’s precious. Right now, it’s everyone for themselves. I thought you out of everyone would understand that,” she said in a  patronizing tone.

  
  


And she fired.

  
  


Clint ran for cover, a round barely missing his shoulder by inches and embedding itself in the window. He ended up behind the bar, with Nat smoothy stalking her way over, not missing a beat. Lunging across the countertop, he attempted a few moving gunshots, which missed as whiskey glasses from that afternoon crashed down in a cascade of glass.

  
  


Nat ran behind a pole as Clint dodged fire until he reached the entrance Natasha had used to enter.

  
  


“You’re dead to me, Romanoff!” Clint screeched as he dodged her shots.

  
  


“Funny,” Nat said in a bored tone, “I could say the same thing,” she said, quietly stalking across the room.

  
  


Clint grumbled.  _ Shit.  _ He only had 4 shots left, and ten feet before she could make the final shot. 

  
  


He provided himself some cover, blindly shooting 2 rounds as he dashed towards the stairs, ready to use the vantage point. He scrambled up the slippery marble steps and crashed as quietly as possible onto his stomach, ready to take a deadly sniper’s aim at the next flash of red hair he could see.

  
  


His heart froze as he felt a barrel pressed against his spine.

  
  


“Any last words?” a cold, laughing voice grated against his hearing aids.

  
  


“... _ Fuck you. _ ”

  
  


“What would Steve say?” Natasha said, before cold heartedly pulling the trigger at point-blank range.

  
  
  
  
  
  


\---

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Tony walked through the kitchen towards the living room, fresh off a Board Meeting, whistling “Thunderstruck” before stepping into the absolute carnage of the living room.

  
  
  
  


It was an absolute explosion of color, with not a single surface spared. While green splattered his expensive upholstered couch, red decorated the entrance he just walked through. He could follow the destruction with his eyes, past the smashed glasses and whiskey dribbling down the sides of the bar from a knocked over Jack Daniels; to the stairs, covered in swirls of lime green and bright red.

  
  


But everyone was gathered on the battered couch, giggling furiously, each decorated in a cacophony of loud colors. Steve looked unamused, with hot pink splatters covering his legs, and a single red shot directly to his gut. Thor looked at Sam and Bucky in amazement, both covered in each other's colors, as Bruce studied all four in a somewhat longing look. Clint looked clean, but as he turned to start a conversation with Thor, Tony could see the direct red shot to his back.

  
  


Nat was the only clean one there, holding a gun with splatters of red decorating the barrel. She held it high and proud on top of the landing on the stairs.

  
  
  


Tony seethed.

  
  
  


“You guys played paintball  _ without me?!” _

**Author's Note:**

> ...I tried


End file.
